Proving him wrong
by Anonemity
Summary: I hate him, I love you! what if Rory changed her mind? This is the way things SHOULD have happened, so that we didn't have to endure the Logan replacing Tristan crap. My first fic, but I think it's pretty okay. Trory, of course. Completed, R&R!
1. Breaking Ties

"I hate him, I love you!" the words came unbidden to her lips, but caught before she gave them voice.

Why was she doing this? She shouldn't have to beg him to love her. All of this drama; she never asked for it. What was she fighting so hard for, anyways? Rory couldn't remember the last time Dean had kissed her, really kissed her. All she could think of was the fighting; the mistrust. She didn't want this.

"Rory," he said, snapping her from the depths of her murky thoughts. She stared at him in silence and dug her hands deeper into her Chilton Uniform.

"Rory, say something." she stood mute a moment, then,

"Dean please leave." He exhaled sharply, and took an imposing step toward her. She looked at the ground, idly noting the way her breath smoked on the frigid air.

"Tell me you don't love me." he half shouted, "tell me you don't love this--us!" he grasped her by the shoulders and she recoiled.

Tristan took a step toward them, but was stopped in mid step by the sound of Rory's voice.

"I loved what we were, Dean, but not what we are." she looked up at him, tears standing in her clear blue eyes. Dean's shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Fine." he said, trying but failing to match the level of finality in Rory's words. He got into his car and drove off in a spurt of engine smog.

Rory stood alone, looking forlornly at the exit of the school, and the truck disappearing around a corner.

Tristan hesitantly came up from behind her.

"You okay, Mary?" he asked tentatively. She turned and fixed him with a herd stare. Her eyes changed instantly from a soft azure to a cold blue ice.

"Not. Now." she growled. With that she turned on her heel and left, leaving a very baffled Tristan DuGrey standing alone in the November cold.


	2. Two steps back

"Well of course, DuGrey, what did you expect?" Paris said loftily, adding a vial of blue liquid to her beaker.

"I don't know, acknowledgment?" Paris shot him a glance that spoke volumes.

"She just broke up with her boyfriend. She doesn't need some lovesick puppy to dote on her every move." Tristan scoffed.

"I do not dote! I notice." he corrected her. She turned on her Bunsen burner.

"Tell that to her next time, if you're not too busy salivating." she said absently, adjusting her flame.

"Mr. DuGrey, are you working or socializing?" the chemistry teacher admonished, and Tristan hastily turned on his burner.

"Dugrey--!" Paris warned, as the contents of Tristan's beaker boiled over the rim. She rolled her eyes and continued her work.

--

Rory pulled again at her locker handle. This is ridiculous! she thought to herself. Finally in a fit of frustration, she banged on the unyielding door and leaned her back against it, closing her eyes in weary defeat.

"Want help?" the voice came out of no where. Rory jumped and emitted a small gasp, her eyes flying open.

"Tristan!" she let out an explosive breath, "don't do that to people."

"Aw, Mary, did I scare you?" he asked in mock concern. She rolled here eyes but couldn't keep a small smile from escaping her lips.

"Oh, you always scare me." He smirked. She gestured at her locker.

"So are you just going to sit around congratulating yourself, or are you actually going to help me?" He ignored her rudeness, instead sauntering over to the offending locker door. He hit it once, and it clicked open easily. Rory blinked in surprise.

Not willing to give him the victory, she quickly stepped around him and grabbed a book. When she closed her locker he was leaning next to her, his elbow resting on the wall.

"Do you need something?" she asked primly.

"Why, an escort to class, of course." she raised one eyebrow at him.

"In return for your locker troubles." he added slyly. She begrudgingly fell into stop with him.

"I never realized there were strings attached," she said in an accusatory tone. Tristan shrugged. The pair walked in silence for a minute, before Tristan spoke hesitantly.

"So Mary...are you...going to be alright?" he asked. Neither of them had to specify what he was alluding to, it was obvious he meant the encounter with Dean. Rory's face became stony, and the air crackles with unreleased tension.

"Why do you have to go there, Tristan?"

"Because I worry about you." he replied easily. Her gaze softened and she averted her eyes, avoiding his penetrating gaze.

"I'll be fine."

"If you ever need to talk--" he ventured.

"--Isn't this your class?" she asked pointedly. He looked at the room and saw it was, but by the time he looked back all he glimpsed was Rory's head, disappearing into the throng of students which filled the hall.


	3. Wabbits and Ladders

"Mom, I'm home!" Rory shouted into the house, and her mother's face popped out from the kitchen.

"Offspring!" Lorelai greeted her, and then grabbed her hand and pulled her into the kitchen. She peeked through the curtains conspiratorially and beckoned for Rory to join her.

"What are you doing?" Rory asked.

"Hiding. Shh."

"From what?" Rory's interest was piqued.

"Hey, daughter, when someone tells you that they're hiding and shh, that does not mean to ask questions. What if Elmer Fudd had said, 'be vewy vewy quiet, I'm a-huntin' wabbits' and you were there? Travesty! Plague!"

"Mom Elmer never caught Bugs."

"Quiet offspring, don't tell me things I don't want to hear. Now shh." Rory went over to the window but couldn't see anything. She tapped her mom on the shoulder and mouthed, 'what?'

"Luke came over to help clean the gutters, well, more like Luke came over to clean the gutters, and you know if you climb out of my window you can stand on the first floor roof?" Rory nodded. "He was there, and I was holding the window, and then the phone rang. Naturally I went to go get it."

Rory gasped. "Mom, the stuck window?"

"I'm surprised he got it open in the first place. It took a hammer and this strange bendy tool which I named Ling, and now I can't get the window open and he started yelling, and he called me flighty!" Lorelai huffed.

"Mom, you are flighty."

"Ah, but damned if I'm going to let anyone get me down about it. Anyways I left him up there, and now I'm hiding."

"How long has he been up there?" Rory asked.

"Half an hour, I figure once the sun goes down he'll figure something out." Lorelai grinned with unsuppressed glee at Luke's misfortune. Rory put her bag on her chair.

"You'd better find a new place to hide." she suggested.

"Why? Every now and then he thinks about jumping off and I see his feet dangle over the edge. It's only one floor, I bet he jumps within the hour."

"I'm going to get a ladder." Rory moved toward the door."

"Traitor!" Lorelai called as Rory went in search of a ladder.

--

Morning. Missed alarm, skipped breakfast, woke up Lorelai, quick shower, ran out the door. Rory was surprised she'd beaten the bus, and now she sat alone on the stiff bench, awaiting it's arrival.

"Hey," she looked over and Dean sat down behind her, holding a paper cup which steamed in the cold. Rory tried to ignore the yearning she felt for the cup--there had been no time for coffee that morning.

"I've been thinking all night," he said, and she cringed inwardly. This was bound to be unpleasant.

"Look I was wondering if you'd changed your mind from yesterday," he said, "now that we're alone and away from HIM and all..."

"Dean I'm sorry. This has nothing to do with Tristan."

"Like hell it doesn't!" he exclaimed, anger filling his eyes. Relief coursed through Rory's veins; the knowledge that she had made the right choice gave her the strength to speak.

"Dean you're the one who didn't trust me when we WERE dating, so what do you want? To go back to that?"

"I want you to stay away from that guy." He acted as if it were that simple, Rory thought. Chilton ans Stars Hollow were two different worlds for her, and somehow one intruding on the other seemed unnatural.

"Dean," she said reproachfully, and he looked away.

"Here." he said finally in disgust, handing her the cup of coffee and storming off. She held the cup for a moment, letting it warm her numb fingers. Then she threw it in the trash can next to the bench. She looked off in the direction he'd gone, and sighed. Somehow she'd always known their friendship wouldn't survive a breakup.


	4. Wuss Coffee

First period today she had a study, so Rory headed directly for the library. Right before she reached the double doors, however, she was accosted by a waspish call.

"Gilmore you stop right there!" Paris came running down the hall. "You haven't given me your editorial yet! I need to compile all of the articles by the end of next week!"

"Paris, you said those articles were due next Monday."

"Yes, and that means this Wednesday! Don't you know anything about deadlines? I have to format the pages and probably edit most of what you've written, because I can't have December's first issue be total crap."

Rory rolled her eyes. "Gee, thanks. Look I don't have it with me. I'll give it to you tomorrow, I promise."

"No, not good enough. I don't trust teenagers." Rory's eyes popped a little at this outrageous statement. "Come write it now, where I can keep an eye on you."

"Paris, I--"

"--She's busy." Tristan came to her rescue. "I promised I would let her tutor me in French."

Paris scrunched her forehead in disbelief. "Going for a little rendevous, Gilmore?"

"More like a tete a tete." Rory countered, and Tristan had to supress a grin.

"Come on, teacher lady," he said, putting his hand around her waist and guiding her to the door of the school. Once Paris had left he leaned in to her and whispered in her ear.

"A tete a tete?" he asked.

"Oh shut up, that was just for Paris." she giggled, smacking his hand away and following him out the door.

-

"So where are we going?" she asked as she got into his car. It was a silver BMW, and she grinned at the thought of her mother's reaction.

"Anywhere you want." he said, flinging his arms wide in a parody of possibility. "The world is our oyster."

"Well," Rory thought out loud, "I haven't had coffee yet..." they sped off before she finished her sentence, gone in search of a much needed venti macciato.

-

Tristan raised his mug to Rory, in declaration of a

toast.

"To the future," he began.

"No no regrets," she added, her mind drifting to other

things.

"And finally, last but certainly not least, to your

infamous chastity." he teased, earning him a smack on

the shoulder.

"The only reason you're getting away with this is

because you bought the coffee." she admitted, and he

raised his mug again.

"To buying the coffee!" she peeked over at his cup.

"What did you get?" she asked curiously.

"A decaf latte." Rory's eyes widened, and she giggled

a little.

"Can I have a sip?" Tristan obliged her, puzzled as

to the humor of the situation. It must have been

something good, because Rory was clearly working very

hard to suppress her mirth.

"What?" he asked, and she smirked around her giggles.

"Nothing, nothing." she said while watching him. He

waited a moment, then took a sip.

"Just that you drink wuss coffee." He almost spit it

out.

"Beg pardon?" he tried to act offended, all the while

enjoying the sight of Rory so happy.

It was a drastic change from yesterday, when her face

was a mask and only her eyes betrayed her true angst.

Now her eyes sparkled with single minded happiness,

and Tristan found it absolutely delightful.

"Wuss coffee." she repeated, wrapping her tongue

around each word and relishing it. "Who would think

that Tristan DuGrey, king of Chilton and master of

flavor-of-the-day-girl, would drink wuss coffee!"

"You wouldn't tell anybody, would you?" his face shone

with consternation, and she held out her hand.

"What's it worth to you?" his mouth fell open with

surprise, but he recovered instantly. Leaning

forward, he touched his forehead to hers. He could

feel her warm breath lightly brush against his face.

The air became as heavy as his eyelids, and he noticed

hers droop shut as her breathing quickened.

"Well, well, well, Mary, let's discuss that." Her

blue eyes snapped open and met his, and she pulled

away.

"Ohmigod!" she exclaimed. He said nothing, gouging

her reaction.

"We're going to be late for second period!"

"We--what?"

"Come ON!" she pulled on the wrist of his Chilton

blazer, asking the coffee vendor if they could get it

to go.

-

They walked into school just as the bell rang and the halls filled with students, mulling around before the next period.

"Better get going, Mary, you wouldn't want to be late to being early," Tristan teased, but Rory just smiled.

"Nothing you say can get me down, your words are nothing to me." she walked on her tip toes, imitation floating on air.

"And why is that, Mary?"

"Because you drink weaker swill than my grandmother." she smirked.

"What's this?" Paris came up behind them, flanked my Madeline and Louise.

"Nothing."Tristan said firmly, and sauntered away to class.


	5. Nasty revelation

Rory had three days a week when her study coincided with first period. Being as Tristan shared this trait, morning coffee quickly became a ritual between the pair.

It was crystal clear how Tristan was affected by Rory, and it caused her amusement to no end. On one such trip to Starbucks, Rory ordered her usual Irish cream.

"I'll have a venti French Roast. Black." Tristan tried to act nonchalant and adult, as if he always drank this. When they sat down, Rory said nothing, waiting with a small smile until he had drained the entire cup.

"You know you didn't have to do that." she gestured at his empty cup. "I sort of liked that you drink wuss coffee. My mom had a field day when I told her."

"Oh thanks, tell me now." he said in a rueful tone, and she grinned roguishly.

"Actually, it wasn't half bad." he conceded, and she clicked her tongue.

"Well well well, I'm impressed." she mocked lightly. He bowed floridly and she laughed.

-

At lunch she was in her usual place, reading with her music blasting in black headphones, when she was interrupted.

A shadow passed over her page, and she looked up in time to see Tristan set his tray down across from her. She removed her headphones a moment to throw him a quisitive look.

"You know," he said around mouthfuls, "it's rude to do that when people are talking to you,"

"You were talking to me?" she asked innocently, and a slow flush crept up his neck.

"Well--no, but what if I was? You would let me make a fool of myself, just to finish..."he raised her book and peeked at the cover. "Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde?" She looked back at the page and shrugged her shoulders.

"Why Mary--"

"--Rory,"

"Mary I'm hurt. I thought we were closer than that. And after I left my post as King at my usual table, this is quite a disappointment." he shook his head in mock disapproval, and to his utter delight, she actually appeared to be blushing.

"I'm sorry Tristan," she said in a crestfallen voice, "You're right. Besides, I enjoy spending time with you." she added, almost to herself. It was surprising to her how true her statement was. Since when had she liked speaking with him? It felt like only yesterday when she dreaded his every appearance, and cursed the way he would vaporize seemingly out of nowhere to torment her.

Tristan was floored, but he recovered his composure quickly, and snapped his mouth shut.

"Well if you feel that was about it, we could be doing better things than eating." he suggested archly, and she forced herself not to grin. She couldn't keep the corners of her mouth from curling up, though.

"Oh? Like what?" she said absently, picking up her book and pretending to read again.

Tristan leaned forward, almost over the edge of the book.

"I can think of a few things," he said, in a voice so soft that she could just barely make out his words.

It was at this point that everything went horribly wrong.

Rory thought about his comment, and after thinking up a snappy response, it hit her. She was actually flirting with Tristan DuGrey. She was succumbing to his will; playing wight into his hands. She might as well have carved the notch in his bedpost herself. The smiled slipped from her lips, and a small exclamation of disgust escaped her.

"Forget is, Tristan. Forget it all." she picked up her books and left the dining hall.

Tristan sat in shock for a moment, before catching himself. Unwilling to lose face, he sauntered over to his usual table, immediately followed by two sophomore girls.


	6. Proving him Wrong

The next day Tristan waited in the morning at his car, his usual meeting place with Rory. It was yet another first period study hall, and he sat patiently in his silver beamer.

When Rory got off of her bus, however, she proceeded straight towards the school. He saw her sneak a glance at him, and quickly look away. What he waw in that fleeting gaze puzzled him enormously. He saw anger, and affection, and...fear?" he sighed in consternation and drove off alone.

Throughout the day he looked for her, careful to appear as though he wasn't Somehow, though, she eluded his every move. She wasn't at her locker, she wasn't at her table at lunch. Fourth period, however, she could not avoid. They shared a class, and he wasn't going to let this chance to talk to her slip through his fingers.

When he reached the classroom, she was seated in the back row, and the seats around her were all occupied.

No problem.

He walked slowly to the desk next to her, and knocked on the wooden surface. The girl sitting in it looked up hopefully.

"Do a guy a favor?" he asked, laying on the charm. The desk was freed in an instant. A small part of him grinned, he couldn't remember the last time he'd used his powers. Rory was affecting him in more ways than his taste in coffee.

"Mare," he half whispered, ignoring the drone of his history professor. She looked over balefully.

"What's wrong?" he asked, getting right to the point.

"Nothing--it's none of your business." she lied, but he only smiled.

"Of course it's my business, I caused it." he enjoyed her reaction: widened eyes, and lips formed in a small 'o' of surprise.

"How do you know?" she retorted.

"Because I know you Mary, and I know I make you tick." she paused, searching for something to say.

She settled on, "My name is Rory." The conversation was going nowhere fast, so he tried again.

"Mary, you know I'll find out eventually. It's in my nature."

Nothing.

"Wouldn't you rather I heard it from you?"

"Why do you even care, Tristan? Why do you care about anything I say?"

"Because I love you Mary, and I have ever since I first lay eyes on you." he has blurted it out before he could stop it, and he snapped his mouth shut in horror of his own candor.

Rory's eyes boggled and she focused them safely on her notebook. She struggled to control her raging emotions, but the different perspectives screaming in her head were too loud to drown out.

She grabbed her bag and fled the room just as the class ended behind her.

"Come on, please come on! Open!" she begged of her locker. She had to escape to the safety of her bus before Tristan reached her. She banged on the locker door in frenzied frustration.

"I hate you!" she yelled at the metal. "I hate you and I hate you and I hate you!" she turned to leave without her things, and was blocked by Tristan's solid figure.

She turned to walk around him, but he blocked her way by putting his hands on the lockers behind her. Trapped within the enclave of his arms, she finally gave in, falling back against the hard metal with a thud.

"He was right." she allowed softly.

"Who?"

"Dean." Tristan frowned.

"Bag boy? About what?"

"He knew it. He knew it and that's why things went wrong."

"Mary..."

"We're doing everything he said we would. If we do this..." she glanced up and Tristan's blue eyes. "He will have been right."

"Mary, I--"

"Do you realize what this means?" her panicked eyes filling with tears. "It means I broke up with his because of you. Oh my God." her voice dropped to a whisper. It was clear she wasn't even speaking to Tristan anymore. "I can't believe myself. I'm horrible." at this he grasped her shoulders gently.

"You are absolutely nothing of the sort." he said firmly, "Don't blame yourself for that, it was equally as much his fault, if not more."

"Tristan..." her eyes were pleading, but he couldn't help feeling a little hurt.

"You're turning me down to prove him wrong." It wasn't really a question. He let his hands drop, and contented himself with simply looking at her.

Though he didn't understand them all, he could see the emotions battling it out on her face. Her eyes were more expressive than she thought.

Finally she went up on her toes and lifted her tear stained face, and kissed him softly. It was over almost before it began. Tristan froze in surprise, and Rory left before he could respond.

When the halls cleared she was gone.


	7. Lane!

"Mom you need to come get me." Rory insisted into her cell phone.

"Hun there's an hour left of school. Can't you stick it out? This is a really bad say at the Inn; Michel made an old woman cry and now Sookie is hitting him with a spoon."

"Mom, I wouldn't ask if it weren't important." There was a long pause at the far end of the line.

"I'm on my way."

-

"You are one lucky little devil."

"Lane?" Rory asked her friend, sitting in the back of Lorelai's jeep. "What are you doing here?"

"Your mom picked me up. She told the principal that my mom had died."

"I'm not so sure you can keep that one a secret, Mom." Rory rubbed the last traces of tears from her face.

"Yeah, but the principal won't mind. He's always has a lil thing for me."

"Lorelai the principal is a girl." Lane said.

"Gee, then who the heck have I been talking to?"

Rory smiled. It was a great escape from her problems, so she let her two best friends fill her head with silliness.

When they reached Stars Hollow Lorelai dropped the girls off at Lukes.

"I wasn't kidding about the Inn, otherwise I'd stay. I had to tie up Sookie with a spoon, and the crying lady thinks I went to make her tea."

"For 45 minutes?" Lane asked.

"She's old, I'll just tell her she already drank it and forgot."

"Good luck, Mom," Rory said, and followed Lane into the diner.

"So tell me, my genius friend, why you look like someone put you through the wash and hung you out to dry."

"Do I look that bad?" Rory winced.

"No changing the subject! Spill."

Rory recounted the tale of Tristan, of Dean, and of the day's battles. Lane oohed and ahhed, but when Rory finished she was shaking her head in disdain.

"Ror, you are an idiot." Rory scoffed.

"Wha--!"

"You obviously like him."

"Yeah..."

"And he obviously likes you."

"Well yeah..."

"And Dean is a jealous, inconsiderate fool who has somehow gotten into your head, despite the fact that you and him should have been over ages before you did."

"So?"

"So, have you heard the new Ima Robot single?"

"What?"

"It rocks pretty hard, even if technically I suppose it's trashy techno punk."

"Lane."

"Look Rory, the answer to your whole boy problem is so simple it's ridiculous. Sleep on it, I'm sure you'll get it."

"Boy problem? Who is it? If it's Dean I swear I'll kill him," Luke came over to the counter.

"No Luke, not that kind of problem." Lane expounded.

"Do I want to know?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Luke can we have two coffees please?" Rory asked sweetly. Luke rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disapproval even as he poured the cups.

"It's bad enough when your mother drinks this, but you're way too young."

"Thanks Luke," Lane smiled, and he walked away muttering about the evils of caffeine.


	8. Ambiguously ever after

Rory awoke the next morning with no idea of what to do. She figured she would either know when she got there, or fake it.

"Come oooooon, we're going to be late!" Lorelai called from the bottom of the stairs.

"No. Way." Rory lept from her bed, and down the stairs.

"Since when are you awake at this hour?" she demanded, and her mom smiled.

"Since never, but I figured you would need coffee for today." Rory had told her everything last night, and her reaction had been much the same as Lane's:

_'So, what do you think I should do?'_

_'Malarbglickle hinsenshmooger.'_

_'What?'_

_'Chickenbutt! Ooh, looks like someone is up way past her bed time...and having sugar so late at night! This can't be healthy...'_

_'Mom! Give me back my ice cream!'_

_'Oh! The clock just struck midnight Cinderella, time to go get your Sleeping Beauty sleep!'_

Okay, so her reaction hadn't been the same at all. Rory looked at her mom for a second, and then ran to get dressed. She forgave her for eating her rocky road.

-

Tristan had come early to school, and was standing at Rory's locker. He paced back and forth across the hall, and angsted about his situation. Yesterday's admission of love could set him back months in his plan of attack. Most likely he had scared Rory so badly she would never want to speak to him again, and then who would he take to prom? Shut up Tris, he told himself, prom isn't for another year and a half, and that joke wasn't even funny the first time you said it to yourself.

Students began filing into the halls, meeting their friends and grabbing their books. Suddenly he spotted Rory far down the hall, and their eyes locked.

Oh, Rory thought, coming closer to Tristan, that's what I'm going to do. She stepped up to him and dropped her coat and bag on the floor. Standing still a moment, she waited to see what he would do.

After a moment he opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted when she reached up and pulled him to to her, meeting his lips with hers. He responded immediately. The kiss deepened and he picked her up and moved her against the row of lockers. Sometime during the duration of the spine tingling kiss, his tongue slipped into her mouth, and she invited it.

Ah, but to talk about the actual kiss. Well, Tristan DuGrey has never been one to be strongly effected by a kiss, which is probably why he went through girls so quickly. Currently he was weak in the knees, and could only think of grasping Rory closer.

Rory was undergoing a similar thought process. Dean had never kissed her like this--ever. Tristan's hands encircled her waist and she ran her fingers through his hair--why had she never touched it before? It was even softer than it looked, and she felt a euphoric sense of excitement wash over her.

They both came out of the kiss panting, with their foreheads resting against one anothers.

"Mary," he ran his hand through his hair and vocalized after what could have been either a second or an hour of silence. "I'm not going to hurt you."

She looked up at him seriously. "I can take care of myself, Tristan. I just..." he kissed her forehead lightly and smiled at the freedom of it.

"What?"

"I really don't want to hate you." she murmured. He stared at her in surprise, and a small sort of awe. This was a novel approach.

"Please don't make me hate you." she repeated, a note of pleading finding it's way into her voice.

"Ah, Mary, I think it would be pretty stupid to do that, don't you?"

He kissed her again, and they went to class holding hands, fingers interlaced.

-

-

-

* * *

**Now I have gone to all this trouble writing you a tale of..well...uncertainty and cowardice...but that's not the point. I live for your comments, even though they may not be so nice, because it is ultimitely them which will decide whether or not I write more stories.**

**Yes, I am begging for responses. Yes, I suppose that does make me a glutton for attention.  
**

**Deal with it.  
**

**The button is right there. Right there! No, further down, and to the left...good. Now push it. **


End file.
